Seventy Miles, Uphill, in the Snow
by Abarero
Summary: Canada has the perfect trip planned for Christmas Eve, and everything's going great. That is, until their car stalls out over fifty miles from the nearest town in the middle of the Yukon. France/Canada.


**Seventy Miles, Uphill, in the Snow (or How America Saved Christmas Eve)**

Canada had been planning this get-away for months. He'd rented out a deluxe cabin tucked away in the far corners of the Yukon. It had a lake view, a wood fire sauna and a fully equipped kitchen for when France insisted on making breakfast Christmas morning. The locale was already covered in a white blanket of snow and Canada wistfully thought of how beautiful it would look under the spectacle of the northern lights. With a smile and a bounce in his step, he said goodbye to that white bear (what was his name? Kuma something…) and headed off to the airport to pick up France. This was, without a doubt, going to be the best Christmas Eve _ever_.

After meeting France at the airport in Alberta, the two made their flight up to Whitehorse, Yukon, chatting on the flight there about what they'd been up to the past few weeks since they'd last seen each other.

By the time they arrived and were loading their luggage into their rented SUV for the drive to the cabin, France was already sniffling. Canada had to repress a bit of a snicker at the sight, the Frenchman huddling there in his thick wool coat and patterned scarf.

"It is not that funny, Canada," he simpered on catching sight of the amusement twinkling in the North American's eyes. "Some of us nations are just not equipped for weather of this…" France sneezed. "Sacre bleu, it must be at least thirty below!"

Raising a gloved hand to hide his laughter, Canada put aside the bag he was loading and went to unknot France's scarf from where it was fashionably tied around his neck. "France, first off, it's only about negative ten degrees Celsius. Second," he gave him a look, "I told you last time if you wore your scarf like this you'd be warmer, eh!"

France frowned down at his re-wrapped scarf. "It is not fashionable to be seen with scarves like…_this_." He gestured with a matching glove to the way Canada had wrapped the scarf up around his chin, leaving just his eyes peering out.

Canada, who was in several layers and a hat with- as France put it, "with ridiculously silly earflaps"- just chuckled. "I'll turn up the heat on the drive, okay eh?"

He smiled at that, then on realizing there was fabric blocking his mouth, France tugged the scarf down a bit so he could lean forward and press a kiss to Canada's forehead. "Merci."

* * *

"Canada, what do you mean you do not have your cell phone?"

They had driven at least thirty miles away from Whitehorse when the rented SUV started making a horrible rattling noise. Canada had insisted on pulling over to check the engine, which he kind of feebly poked at before turning to France- who gave him a look as if to say "Pardon, but I am not putting my designer gloves anywhere near that."

"I don't see anything strange, eh. I guess it's okay to keep going."

So keep going they did. Until the vehicle came to a shuddering, lurching stop. Canada tried to start it back up, the engine turning over and making horrid choking noises, before he turned to France with a timid smile.

"Um France, do you have a cell phone, eh?"

It had then come to light that Canada had forgotten his cell phone (he thought he'd left in the kitchen cabinet, next to an extra bottle of maple syrup he almost packed) along with a few other items like his toothbrush ("I guess I can use my finger to rub the toothpaste on my teeth, right eh?") and his pajama pants. Only the last of those three missing items being something France approved of.

Being as they were at least forty miles from the nearest town, a call for help was their only hope. But France's cell phone couldn't get any reception in the thick winter air and Canada's, which would have been more equipped for the weather, wasn't with them.

"I suppose, we could try to fix it?" France asked warily, eying the hood of the SUV.

Canada shrugged. "I guess we just open it up and look for anything that seems broken?"

Together they trudged out onto the side of the snow-covered rural road. Canada made the first attempt at fixing it, staring down into the engine and looking around for anything strange.

"Is that…thingy supposed to bend to the right?" He asked.

France frowned, "I honestly have no idea."

After spending a few more minutes pointing to various parts of the engine and trying to discern if they were broken or not, France had the brilliant idea of digging out the owner's manual from the glove compartment.

"It all looks like the picture to me," France mumbled, squinting at the image and then at the engine.

Canada took the offered manual and frowned on finding that all the engine parts indeed looked like they did in the picture.

"I guess we'll have to walk, eh."

Canada said it so nonchalantly, that France almost thought he was joking. But as he closed up the hood of the SUV, Canada took a look at the road and then started walking forward.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

France sneezed; tugging the scarf back down from where he'd pulled it up due to Canada's fretting. He winced as the bitterly cold air hit his mouth. "We cannot walk the rest of the way! Didn't you say it was seventy miles from town?"

Canada nodded. "Yeah, eh. Seventy miles, up at the top of the hill, overlooking a lake. We've driven maybe forty five?"

Settling a hand on Canada's shoulder, France leveled him with a pleading look. "Canada, I know you could probably survive easily in this artic weather. But I will honestly _wither away and die_! Look at me, I am positively shivering! My beautiful teeth chattering away! And…and…" He bit the corner of his scarf and started shaking his head melodramatically. "I am too beautiful a gift to the world to waste away in the wilderness!"

Biting his lip, Canada looked at the snow-covered road before them, then back to their stalled SUV. "I guess we could wait and see if anyone drives past?"

France hugged him. "Merci beaucoup, mon chéri! Merci!"

As they clambered back into the car, huddling as close as they could for warmth, the sun began to set.

* * *

It had been at least an hour and not a single person had driven past. Canada could feel France shivering in his arms and he sighed. He had ruined their evening completely.

"I'm so sorry France. You should have visited Seychelles instead. At least then you'd be warm…"

France forced a weak smile, his teeth chattering still. "Non. Do not say such things. I shall visit her on New Year's as I do every year, but Christmas Eve is always just for you. Please, mon amour." He reached up and cupped Canada's cheek. "I am not mad at you."

Canada leaned into the embrace, shyly thinking that perhaps if he kissed France's poor chilled lips that would at least give them some warmth. Pressing against him as best as he could, Canada could feel France wrap his arms snuggly around him; he smiled a bit to himself. Perhaps he could save this yet!

But as he went to lean closer, France jerked back sharply.

"Canada, you are…" His expression turned sly. "Rather happy to see me, apparently."

Blinking, it finally registered to Canada what France was insinuating. "O-Oh!" He blushed and glanced down at the bulge in his pants pocket. _Huh? But that isn't my…_

Canada quickly shoved his hand in his pocket, and with wide eyes, he pulled out his supposedly left-behind cell phone. "Ehhh? I guess I didn't leave it behind after all."

France gaped in shock. "You mean we have been stuck out here for hours when we could have…"

He cut off his words when he saw Canada's eyes drop and his shoulders slump.

"Canada…"

"I am so, so sorry!" He exclaimed, launching himself forward towards France. "I'll call for emergency help right away."

Before France could even reply, Canada had sat back in his seat and hit speed dial. Moments later, France could hear a familiar voice greeting Canada over the phone.

"Hey bro, what's up?" America asked, a strange echo on the line.

"Um…are you busy at the moment, America? I'm having a bit of a problem and…"

America chuckled. "Aren't you on your Yukon getaway? Or did France chicken out because it's too cold?"

Canada sighed. "Our car broke down about fifty miles away from town and it's really cold. Even for me, bro."

"What?" America exclaimed, then Canada heard him curse. "Shit. Sorry about that bro. I should probably not pilot and talk on a cell phone at the same time."

"Pilot?" Canada queried.

"Of course bro, you just stay on the line and the awesome hero America will be right there with help!"

That's when Canada remembered. He'd even asked off monitor duty tonight so he could go. "You're with NORAD flying right now, aren't you?"

America laughed and Canada just knew his twin brother was grinning widely and proudly. "Oh yeah. On Santa-watch duty this year. But I'm sure they won't mind if I make a quick detour. You lucked out; we just passed over Seattle so I'll just head north from here."

A loud curse and the sound of beeping echoed over the phone.

"America, are you sure it's not a problem, eh? I mean I'm sure if we wait another hour someone might drive by and…"

"Canada," America cut into his ramble. "You can count on me, okay? That's what brothers are for, right?"

He sighed in relief. "Thanks America."

"Hang tight, I'll fly as fast as I can. So can I land nearby?"

Glancing out at the empty road, Canada replied. "It's empty all around us. But…how are you going to find where we're at?"

"Oh that's easy! I just ripped out some wires from the controls I won't need, and I looped your cell phone signal through my GPS. I've got you on a tiny rural road going northeast from Whitehorse, right? Near Dalayee Lake?"

"America, you're…"

"Awesome, I know. See you soon, bro. Hang in there!"

Canada smiled. "I'll try. It's France I'm worried about."

"Yeah, he's kinda a wuss in this weather isn't he?"

With a laugh, Canada shot a glance over at the shivering nation beside him. "Yeah. Thanks for the help bro."

"No prob. America, over and out!"

* * *

Knowing that help was on the way made the time pass a lot faster than it had before. Canada decided to try and keep France warm by sharing one of his coats with him and covering him in an extra blanket he had in the backseat. Wrapped up like a sniffling, bearded, man-cocoon, France curled up against Canada's side.

"I'll get a fire started first thing when we get there, and I'll let you have all the extra blankets and…" Canada paused on feeling France's cold hand grasp his.

"I know. When you first met me, you saved me from the cold, I am certain you will help me again."

Canada felt a lump catch in throat; France had remembered that after all. He smiled. "I'll take care of you, eh."

They were leaning in towards one another, about to kiss, when a loud rumbling sound echoed all around them. Even the vehicle they were in rattled with the noise, louder and closer than thunder.

Canada gave France a reassuring grin. "I bet that's America!"

As the two countries scrambled out of the car, a large shadow swept over them. Canada held his hat on while France held to his scarf. Sure enough, moments later an F-15 Eagle came to a halt on the road up ahead of them.

Rushing towards it, Canada saw his twin clambering out of the cockpit. "Merry Christmas, bro!" He dropped to the ground and wrapped Canada in a one-armed hug. "Whoa, you _are_ freezing. Here, let me get some stuff for ya."

Sticking his front end back into the cockpit, America unearthed two cups. "I stopped by a McDonalds and got you both some coffee to warm you up." He handed over the styrofoam cups to them. "I would have had some burgers but…"

Canada snorted. "Yeah, you ate those."

"I was hungry!" America protested.

"Not to ruin your brotherly bonding moment, but I would much prefer to be inside soon." France piped up, his voice small and obviously trembling due to the cold.

Reaching back into his cockpit, America pulled out a canister of gasoline. "So, did either of you check the gas?"

France blinked. Canada did as well before smacking his forehead. "Oh man, I knew I was forgetting something eh!"

America patted his brother on the back. "It's okay bro. It happens all the time when we go on trips together. Both so excited we forget to stop for gas."

France sighed. "I've had an electric car for the past few years so, it never crossed my mind."

Trudging back down the road to where the SUV waited, the two brothers quickly filled up the tank and much to their relief- the engine roared back to life. With a whoop and a cheer, America gave his brother a hug.

"Problem solved! Now this hero needs to make a quick flight back to DC before someone waiting there gets impatient that I haven't yet arrived to sweep him off his feet."

Canada smiled. "Tell England I'm sorry if he's too grumpy about it."

America grinned. "Oh come on, England's _always_ grumpy about it. Anyways, Merry Christmas you two!"

"To you as well, Amérique!" France said, looking a bit happier now that the coffee had warmed him up.

"And thanks again, eh!" Canada said with a wave as America walked back towards his plane.

"Just doing my duty as a hero. Goodnight!"

As America got back into his plane and flew off, Canada turned to France. "Ready to go?"

"More than ever."

Once they arrived, everything went well. Canada, as promised, started a roaring fire in record time _and_ he'd gathered all the blankets the cabin had into the sitting room. France even joked at one point that he had his own personal hero, which just made Canada blush.

As the two of them cuddled in the firelight, France's color came back to his cheeks finally.

"You're looking like you feel better, eh."

France pressed a kiss to Canada's neck. "Ah. One might say that."

Running his hand up France's back, Canada clutched the blanket closer to them. "Um…are we gonna…right here, eh?"

With a sideways glance at the warm rug and then back to Canada, France's lecherous grin surfaced on his face. "Ah, but of course. You have promised to get me warm and you have. It is my turn to return the favor, oui?"

"F-France!"

As they tumbled to the rug in a heap of blankets, France chuckled. Pressing a tender kiss to Canada's lips, he murmured. "Joyeux Noël, Canada."

And, feeling a warmth blossom in his chest that his plan finally seemed to be back on track, Canada replied with a smile. "Merry Christmas, France."

_The End_

* * *

Notes:  
[1] NORAD, the North American Aerospace Defense Command, a joint organization of Canada and the United States. Every year on Christmas Eve, "NORAD Tracks Santa" follows Santa Claus, as he leaves the North Pole and delivers presents to children around the world.


End file.
